


Rated DP

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Gaping, Anal Plug, Ass-Kicking, Barebacking, Bathroom Sex, Cock Slut, Creampie, Daddy Kink, Double Anal Penetration, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Facials, Innocent Zayn, M/M, Object Insertion, Public Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Threesome - M/M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5601238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is one kinky bastard, and Harry is more than happy to lend a helping hole to make his fantasy come true. But, what happens when Harry ignites the sexual fire that is Zayn, Louis' seemingly obedient and devoted boyfriend?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Previewed Pussy

A knock drums on the door.

“Fuck, he’s early. Of course he’s early: the early bird gets the dick.” Zayn sighs as he spits out the last of his toothpaste. He begrudgingly exits the bathroom to open their suite’s door. On the other side of the now open frame, stands Harry Styles. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and a large gray hoodie. His hair is pulled up in a tight, greasy man bun, and a headband is taming his curly mane. He looks like he could be training for a marathon if it weren’t for the damn beams of golden light dancing around the hallway as each of his boots reflects the hotel’s cold fluorescents. Zayn can’t help but wonder if Harry chose this outfit because of how easy it is to get off. If he did, that is hot at fuck; if he didn’t, Harry is still hot as fuck.

“I brought condoms and lube; I didn’t know if you both were as into barebacking as I am.” Harry huffs as he sweeps into the room while Zayn chokes on his own spit. He said bareback. Harry Styles liked to get fucked raw, and Zayn cannot suppress his whimpering as imagined scenes of a leaking, red, stretched out Harry overtake his mind. Damn, how could Harry be fucking kinky as shit and Zayn not know it. Who even has the confidence to say something that fucking dirty? Yes, they’ve known each other for half a decade, but dick taking isn’t often a subject they converse about. Everyone in the band knows about Zayn and Louis and about Harry being gay, but who knew he was so - well - dirty. Louis must have because he saw no problem in asking Harry to do this for him. Zayn still wasn’t fond or sure of the idea, but he so wants please Louis.

Zayn’s mind swims with thoughts of what is to happen. He has to constantly remind himself it is all for Louis to even begin to be a little comfortable with the idea. However, as he watches Harry walk farther into the room, he may be coming around to the idea, for his eyes glue themselves to Harry’s ass filling out his sweatpants so delectably. Zayn understands why Louis would want to him because Zayn’s own cock begins to harden with desire at the sight.

“Zee, are you ready?” Louis calls from within the room. Fuck, Zayn hadn’t realized that he was still in the entryway clutching the handle of the door until now. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he had left the door standing wide open, and his dampened toothbrush still lain in his right hand. He sees Louis’ head peek out into the room’s central hallway, “Zee? Babe, are you alive over there?”

“What? Oh, y-yeah. I’m… I’m ready when you are.” Zayn motions to the open door. Louis smiles as he leads Harry down the hall towards him. Louis stops to ghost his lips over Zayn’s needy ones aiming to reassure him about all of this. Harry winks at Zayn as he brushes against Zayn’s leather jacket on his way out. Zayn’s grip on his toothbrush dissipates as it falls to the ground with a carpet muffled, instantly forgotten thud. Zayn lets out a ragged breath once the boy has left the room. He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath, but the burn in his chest suggests long enough to match the dull burning of his erect desires.

\---------------------------------------

The car ride to the movie theater is excruciating for Zayn. Harry and Louis are sat up front while Zayn sits broodingly in the back of the discrete, prosaic vehicle. He makes admirable attempts to keep his mind distracted by the flashing scenes of the bustling world just on the other side of the window, but Harry and Louis make that damn near impossible. They’re deep into a lengthy show and tell all about Harry’s apparently massive dildo collection. An included bonus being the addition of Harry showing Louis picture after picture of his pale, breached hole on each and every plastic cock. Harry, too, must have a sort of exhibitionist kink, for he likes to send the pictures to various horny teens or post them in anonymous forums for the Internet to gag over. Zayn had no idea such places even existed, but now no shiny skyscraper can occupy his racing mind. Instead, he takes to rubbing his limp erection through his navy jeans.

The so-called discussion of to bareback or not to bareback tonight didn’t take nearly as long. Harry said absolutely, Louis said why the fuck not, Zayn was not asked. However, Zayn was asked to pay close attention to the plans for their “double date”. Harry and Louis both found the name hilarious, for they understood the full extent of their intentions tonight. Zayn, though not totally lost, wasn’t as amused. Only Louis and he were a thing; Harry wasn’t even in a relationship. Didn’t the whole concept of double dating involve two couples?

“As we all know, Lou is one horny bastard,” Harry begins as Louis fist-pumps proudly with his left hand - his right controls the car, “and he is finally going to get some of his dirty ass fantasies fulfilled - tonight. But, this is to be a highly skilled operation, so pay attention, Dickheads. Number one: we are going to have sex in the movie theater during a film; however, to up the ante for Louis’ pleasure, we are going to fuck during some shitty kids flick. The point is, I will be impaled in a room full of little, innocent shits. Number two: no condoms, no biting, no lube, no complaining, no choking, no stopping, and no fisting for today. Number thr-”

“Wait, ‘no fisting for _today_ ’?” Are we fisting another day or something?” Zany questions bewildered. Is this going to be a regular thing? Does this mean fisting is another of Louis’ fantasies? Yes, Zayn is a little - okay, majorly - offended that his own boyfriend didn’t even bother to tell Zayn his fantasy. Sure, Zayn is more of a top than a bottom, so the idea of him being on the receiving end is daunting. But, he would do anything for Louis. Though in all honesty, he’s not certain he could even begin to take a fist. Louis’ dick rips him apart, even after three fingers. It would take someone, well, like Harry to take a whole hand. At least, Zayn assumes Harry could, given Louis’ undisputed belief in Harry’s sexual readiness and the lad’s menagerie of dicks of all shapes, sizes, and sensations.

Harry’s shit-eating smirk reflecting in the side mirror further proves Zayn’s suspicions as Harry continues, “Number three: you are going to take turns fucking me. Once I am stretch out enough, you are going to double fuck me.” Shit, that must be what they meant by double date. Who needs two couples when you have two dicks and one willing ass. “Number four: you will both cum in me, and I will finger fuck it out while you both thicken back up and jack off - so that we can get to number five. Number five: you both will coat my face in cum, and I will wear it as my badge of pride out of the theater. Questions?” Harry finished with a bored sigh. It’s a simple plan, and it’s one filled with things he’s done tens of dozens of times - just not all at once.

He’s had the sex in a theater twice before, but neither time involved two dicks in his ass. The last time, however, did involve two dicks, for the greedy old man next to him insisted Harry blow him. Harry did while the man’s wife sobbed at the sudden death of someone on screen (and unknowingly her marriage), and Harry rode some twink he propositioned on Grindr. Gangbanging and occasional alcohol driven double dickings have become synonymous with Harry at his favorite bars and clubs. For him, there is no greater joy than that derived from a drunk stranger’s digits stretching him open for some anonymous dick (and all those that cum after it). Most times it all takes place in a bathroom, but recently he has taken to wearing loose pants and no underwear when clubbing. For, the euphoria of getting fucked by some perv when on the dance floor, surrounded by dozens of oblivious patrons, is too great to pass up. Each man just passes him into the arms of the next man who fucks up into his ass; though, it looks like they’re merely grinding away like any drunk couple would. Harry never learns their names, but he does like to create lives for each load fucked up into him. Most probably have wives, children, a boring desk job. Each, though, has a raging sex drive and a love for twinks like him. Raw sex was always just something Harry had. He didn’t mind lube, but he revels in  having a tender, chapped ass the next morning. He usually stretches himself before sex, so he is somewhat lubed up. He prefers all his cocks to not be; also, he likes them to be bare - no condom. It’s not that he’s a massive cumslut (though he sort of is); he just likes to feel every inch of what’s wrecking him. What’s so wrong with that? In Harry’s eyes, abso-fucking-lutely nothing.  

Zayn, however, has so many questions about how this will work and what the fuck he’s agreed to. God, does he have questions, but he cannot force his mouth to ask them. His head is too preoccupied with images of Harry’s diamond cheekbones dripping with his cum as he beams down at confused, pure children. Thank fuck they have arrived because Zayn feels like he could explode at any moment, and he has to force his hand to stop frantically stroking his clothed cock or else.

When Zayn looks up, both boys have already climbed from the vehicle. Fuck, he is getting too wrapped up in his thoughts. He stumbles out of the car, and Louis locks it with a beep-beep. Zayn immediately notices something has changed in the air around them. Zayn doesn’t know what it is; neither of the others recognizes the shift as they are too consumed with double date determination. Zayn follows behind both boys like a zombie hunting a nice warm hole to eat in place of brains. Harry’s plump ass swings back and forth in his sweatpants, and Zayn takes in every inch of it until it abruptly stops.

Zayn had failed to see the packet of lube Harry had been toting in his pocket float to the ground, but his face heats as it squelches under his mud-caked boots. Harry, having felt the packet fall, watches Zayn take a step back and look down at the shiny substance oozing from its metallic casing. Harry wordlessly bends down slowly and picks up the bursted lube packet. The expanse of his ass is displayed in full for Zayn as his joggers stretch in response to his sudden change in motion. Zayn’s eyes are glued to the globes in front of him, and he quickly notices an irregularity in the fall of Harry’s pants. The gray material suddenly juts out where Harry’s hungry hole must be. Fuck, Harry must be already stuffed with a plug, or is it a dildo? Zayn didn’t recognize when Harry and Lou were talking about it in the car, but the memory of their not so private conversation enlightens his bulging eyes and bulging denim crotch.

“This is my favorite,” Harry beams as he shows Louis the picture of his hole being stretched on a pink, glitter cock. “It has the most delicious grooves, and you can feel them rub against your walls every time you move.” Zayn wasn’t paying enough attention then to have processed Harry’s grinding motion into the seat below him, but his cock now strains at the knowledge that Harry’s was getting his hole ready for fucking by grinding down on his bubblegum dildo. This fact is made all the more thrilling when Harry makes a spectacle of emptying his pockets of more lube packets and a few condoms. He lets them cascade to the ground and leaves them lying on the cracked asphalt as he walks on with a wink to Zayn. Zayn’s face blushes in response to the actions and the realization that Harry meant to drop down and show Zayn everything he’s got. His hunger grows and consumes him.

Louis insists on waiting in line for popcorn after he pockets all their ticket stubs, so Harry excuses himself to the bathroom. Zayn tells Louis he wants to go piss before everything kicks off, and Louis kisses him goodbye to soothe his boyfriend’s worrying mind. Zayn’s mind, however, is too far gone, for Harry has ignited a fire throughout his body that he has never felt before. He feels confident, in charge, sexy, and like he was born to wreck Harry’s taint. He knows Harry has been taunting him. He isn’t an idiot, and this newfound sexual awakening finds Zayn stalking after Harry like he is the finest of prey.

Zayn ebbs and weaves through the crowds with his eyes dead set on Harry’s fucking man bun. He sees the long boy dip into the bathroom, and he follows. Harry walks to a urinal to relieve his bladder before it takes a no doubt beating by his bandmates’ cocks; Zayn traipses towards Harry to give him a taste of what is to come. After all, what is a film without those persistent previews?

As he passes an older, white-haired gentleman, Zayn smiles in the hopes of curtailing any suspicions, but he soon discovers he has no worries over anyone in here or those who might meander in. It would not matter who saw him. All that would matter would be the sugary, musky taste of Harry’s stretched hole on his tongue. Harry probably likes being watched anyway: Lord knows he likes to send out candids of his prized physical attribute to any asking or just plain lucky man. Zayn says nothing as his boots stop just behind Harry’s golden ones. Nor, does he speak when he begins to knead Harry’s bubble butt. Harry’s moans only push Zayn farther into the abyss of want and lust. For, Harry makes no attempt to push him off nor to question who he his. He just thrusts his hips back into Zayn’s hands hoping for more.

Harry watches the reflection of Zayn’s hands groping him in the smooth tile of the wall before him. Zayn’s eyes are burning through Harry’s pants and deep into his skin with uncensored arousal, and Harry never wants it to stop. “Zayn… oh, Zayn, what… what took you so long?” Harry moans out. Fuck, Zayn knew Harry had been fucking with him ever since he had let him in that hotel door. Now it was his turn to fuck with Harry. Zayn licks Harry’s neck as he tugs roughly on the knot crowning Harry’s head. “Oh, fuck, Zayn. Yes, please,” Harry moans as Zayn spreads his hands down Harry’s hard torso. He had barely touched the boy, yet Harry already sounds like he had been fucked stupid. He places kisses from the nape of Harry’s neck down to the waistband of his joggers. Goosebumps rise on Harry’s skin as Zayn’s hands rake against his trembling frame. With not one single glance around him, Zayn pulls Harry’s torturous pants down past his hairless sack, and gravity shimmies them down to cup around Harry’s gold-booted ankles.

“Fuck, Babe, you didn’t tell us you were going commando. No wonder this big ass moved so sexily.” Zay teases as he bites Harry’s smooth cheeks. Zayn licks a thick, wet stripe up Harry’s bald crack starting at his heavy sack. His tongue’s exploratory voyage is blocked once it hits the suction cup base of Harry’s twinkling dildo, so Zayn drags his tongue back down Harry, up Harry, down Harry, up, down, up. The taste of Harry’s sweaty crack is overwhelming to Zayn. He doesn’t eat ass often, but it may be his favorite meal now. The slick boy under his rough tongue moans as he, too, pinches his bandmate’s taut nipples between his fingers. Then, Zayn slides those long digits down Harry’s front, and they quickly reach and dance around Harry’s precum-coated dick. “Oh, Haz, how did I know we had such a slut in the band? Look at you: cock leaking, ass stuffed, showing it all off to whoever happens to walk through the door. Fuck, you are something else.” Harry whimpers in return, but curses flood Zayn’s ears once he whips the little body in his arms around and slides down Harry’s creamy length. Harry threads his fingers through Zayn’s hair as he sloppily fucks Zayn’s accommodating throat. Zayn hums around the intrusion, and smirks as an idea strikes fire in his sadistic brain. He quickly removes Harry’s length from his spit and tear stained face, and he sends the lad’s skin smacking into the cold, tiled walls of the bathroom with an echoing snap. The curly-haired slut yelps in surprise. He looks at Zayn with his bloodshot eyes like he is begging Zayn to take him right here and now. Zayn, however, has other - more agonizing - plans.

“You know what’s good about tile, Hazza,” Harry shakes his head, for he can only think of cock, cock, cock at this point. Zayn laughs as he moves closer to Harry’s trembling frame. He wraps his arms lovingly around the lad as he whispers tenderly against the shell of his ear, “Certain things are very good at getting stuck to it.” Then, Zayn yanks Harry’s pliable, weak body back into his tattooed arms as Harry screams. Harry falls to the floor in sobs as Zayn lets his body slam to the urine sticky ground. Zayn diverts his eyes to Harry’s former place of rest, and gulps. His plan had worked and fucking fuck.

There stuck on the wall is Harry’s wet dildo in all its glory. “Fuck, looks like someone know how to take an arm. I must say, Styles, you are one dirty whore.” Zayn laughs as he draws close to the radiating warmth of the phallic object. Harry lies boneless on the floor as his hole clenches on air and his eyes widen as Zayn drop to his knees. Harry gasps as his favorite toy is taken into Zayn’s watering mouth, and he begins to bob on the unforgiving object. Zayn soon pulls his pink lips off the pink dildo with an obscene pop, “Fuck, Harry, you taste so goddamn good - so sweet and manly. God, I am going to crave your fucking hole for the rest of my life, Babe.” Zayn hums as he takes the toy back down his throat.

“Wh- why… why don’t y-you taste it from th-the real thing, D-Daddy .” Harry chokes out, and Zayn’s head stills. He slides off the wall mounted cock and turns towards Harry. Zayn cannot decide which is hotter, being called Daddy or Harry begging Zayn to go down on him. The gleam in his eye turns Harry’s stretched hole into a quivering tunnel of pulsing anticipation. Zayn crawls over to Harry’s limp body, and he shifts Harry’s body so his long, delicious legs wrap around Zayn’s own waste. His open ass is winking up at Z’s thirsty mouth. Zayn leans down to taste the heavenly hole as the heels of Harry’s boots dig unabashedly into his hips, but his phone fucks everything up.

He holds Harry’s lower half in his left arm as he digs in his back pocket to retrieve the ringing piece of shit. “It’s Louis, Babe, so we have to really quiet okay? We can’t let my Daddy know I’m wrecking your little twink hole before he’s even had a touch, okay?” Harry moans which Zayn takes to be a yes. If only Zayn knew how much more than simple touching Louis has done to Harry. “Hey, Babe!” Zayn smirks as Harry shivers: Zayn had been calling him that. God, does he feel dirty knowing that’s what he calls his damn boyfriend. Now, he’s gotten it stamped onto his ass in want thick letters comprised of perspiration and bruises. “Where are we? Umm... we’re still in the bathroom. I know, this line is fucking insane. Apparently, one of the restrooms is out of order.” Zayn boldly lies as he slides three fingers into Harry’s loose hole. Harry grunts like a fucking pig. “That noise? Oh, it was just - um - the guy in the stall next to me,” Zayn explains as his fingers give a deep tissue massage to Harry’s bulging prostate. “Has the movie started yet?” Zayn proceeds as he adds a fourth finger into the boy fucking himself back onto Zayn’s long digits without shame. “Has it really not? Great! Yeah, Harry is in here somewhere.” His thumb now tucks just past the dark purple, puffy ass lips below him as he holds his hand so agonizingly statuesque. “How much longer will we be? I don’t know, maybe ten or fifteen more minutes. Twenty minutes max, Babe.” Zayn’s smile fissures his face as Harry fucks himself back onto his beaked hand. His walls feel so soft and warm that Zayn has to bite back a moan. “Oh, you did? Well, I don’t think I’ll be hungry actually so don’t worry about saving me any.” Harry pierces the skin of his bottom lip with his chattering teeth as he holds back his streams of moans. He’s almost past the second knuckles of Zayn’s hand, and he sure as hell knows what comes after that. “I know it’s nothing but- I gotta go, Love. See you in twenty.” Zayn rushes to hang the phone up as Harry erupts with a cock-hardening squeal. Harry’s luscious insides shake as Zayn’s fist lodges itself deep between his convulsing walls. Harry is rambling nonsensical chants as Zayn’s finger spread out inside him. Zayn has to fight against Harry’s death grip on his wrist to force his arm deeper into the boy. Harry weeps as the pads of Zayn’s fingers dance up and down his fucking walls - occasionally tapping his beloved bundle of nerves. Harry’s vision has gone blindingly white as it vibrates from exploding waves of maximum pleasure. Without warning, the hand in Harry’s hole is torn out of him leaving him screaming and crying in blissful torture.

“Tisk, tisk, Harry. I think someone has been a bad, bad boy. You forgot one of your own rules: no fisting.” Zayn breathes into the blooming purple of younger boy’s lower back making dark hairs raise on the tingling skin. “Don’t worry, Babe. I won’t punish you this time, but if you break any more rules I will not hesitate to spank you.” Zayn threatens as a desperate Harry Styles whines eternally. Zayn has no idea where this dominant side of him has been hiding, but he is going to bask in its satisfying glory for as long as he can. He has to shove both his hands into his pockets to keep them from instinctually lashing out at the whore below. He doesn’t want to hurt Harry, but - God - does Harry want to feel the pain of a quick moving hand.

He adores being bruised by a wide palm. The mere notion of spanking brings fond memories of letting those hairy, drunk, young, dirty, old, high, thick strangers spank his ass until his cheeks were tinged purple, and then them all fucking him wherever they thought was safe. Or, in some cases, where it wasn’t safe but sexy and slutty. Harry’s best memory is one of him riding some short, fat, uncut dick on top of a bar for the gawking room to see. The man was gross and nowhere near satisfying, but the eyes on him made Harry feel like he was more than some twinky popstar. For a short while, was a dirty pornstar. He loved it; now, he gets free drinks there whenever they’re in town, and, if he’s lucky, a good fuck. Which is what he is craving from Zayn more than anything.

“You see, Haz. I don’t want to hurt you: I want to please you,” soothes Zayn as he places his foot between Harry’s liquefied legs. He slowly drags his boot towards Harry’s gape as his body fills with the kinky desires of his new sexual prowess. Harry can’t help but grumble in confusion as Zayn's pointed rubber sole is placed over his hole. It is left there until Harry is writhing about on the filthy, cold floor in anticipation and arousal. The boot is removed from its fleshy resting place as Zayn thickly spits onto the open hole below him. He sets his boot back on top of Harry’s spasming hole and pushes. Harry’s loose perineum opens up around the pointed tip and wide sole. Harry gasps in surprise and gratification of an unknown need within in him as Zayn kicks forward like he’s scoring goal after goal. Harry skin burns in embarrassment at just how much pleasure he is receiving from Zayn’s leather boot. He can add this bathroom to his mental map of sites of sexual discovery: God only knows what else will feel this incredible in his ass. He whines as each kick drives the boot farther into his breaking pussy. Its weathered texture is unlike anything Harry has felt before - rough, cold, and unforgiving - as it fills him over and over. His world, however, is shattered when Zayn presses down on the wall underneath his large boot. Harry’s prostate is trapped under the pressure and leaves him wailing like he is giving birth. And, it feels like it too when Zayn suddenly pulls his dirty boot from the groaning, pale body.

Harry hears the undeniable pop of his pussy wrecker being yanked from the wall, and his eyes blink open as a rush air slams past his face. In front of him sits his toy - forever erect and locked onto the floor. “You have five minutes to fuck yourself until you cum.” Zayn dominantly spits. Harry groans as he still has no control over his muscles. He cannot lift himself, nor stop his mancunt from pulsating in need. “If you don’t cum in those five minutes, you will regret it.”

Harry pleads with Zayn, “Z, I can’t - fuck - move. How am I supposed to ride -”

Zayn is taking zero excuses as he cuts the boneless lad off, “I get it, Daddy’s big hands and muddy boot wrecked you, and now you can’t feel those pretty, hairless legs of yours. Well, too damn bad. You’re going to fucking ride that shit somehow, someway! You understand me?” Zayn demands as Harry nods, but the brunette cannot make his body move. His muscles quiver and fail to hold him up as he attempts to lift himself. He tries over and over as Zayn glares down at him. It’s in the middle of Harry’s maybe seventh attempt to raise his body even an inch of the ground that Zayn has enough of the weak spectacle before him.

“Maybe next time you’ll learn to ask for help,” seethes Zayn as he hoists the pale boy up by the arms and drops him down onto his prissy, wide toy. Harry feels split open as the hard plastic head rams his prostate. The force of the abuse to his insides sends shockwaves of melting pleasure throughout Harry’s limp body. Every inch of his skin goes numb as his bones hum, his lungs seize, his stomach lurches forward, his heart stops, and his hole squelches as he unconsciously grips the toy in him. He just experienced the greatest cum in his whole life, and now his warm, wet, weak body is definitely too fucked to function.

Zayn, however, continues to pick him up and drop him down onto his longtime artificial lover. “Tighten your hole up, Babe.” Harry does his best to oblige in his fucked out state. “That is it, just a little tighter. Squeeze those lips around the plastic cock, Babe. Oh, you’re such a good boy. Come on: you can do it, Hazza. Wrap those beat walls around that wannabe dick. There you go! Such an incredible hole on you, Babe. Okay... up, up.” Zayn lifts Harry now slightly less - though still undeniably - open hole off the dildo. He sets Harry on the ground as he takes the princess pink dildo to the sink. “While I clean your pussy wrecker, why don’t you clean your sweet mess off the floor.” Zayn motions to the droplets of cum and the glistening shine of ass-warm lube that decorated the grimy floor.

“Yes, Daddy.” Harry complies, and Zayn dick rises yet again at the appellative. In the mirror, he sees Harry dragging his tongue along the dirty, drenched floor. Harry didn’t even consider using paper towels. God gave him a tongue, and every cock in London knows he knows how to use it. Zayn forces his eyes away from the aphrodisiac of a sight and onto the sink below him, for he’s already cummed in his pants once. He doesn’t know exactly when he did so, but it had to have been sometime between Louis’ call and kicking into Harry’s cheerleader cunt. The cold, sticky sensation of his cum drying on him is unpleasant but so worth it as he smirks at what all has just happened. However, he cannot afford to do it again, at least not until he is inside the boy. For, Zayn fears he may only have one or two more good loads left in him for today, and he wants to save as much as he can for number five. Still, whatever switched on inside him in the parking lot has forever changed Zayn, and goddamnit does he like it. He told Louis they would be back in twenty or so minutes: that was fifteen minutes ago according to the dusty clock on the wall. He needs to make this clean up fast.

“Harry, bring you pussy here,” Zayn demands as he dries the (now apple-scented) dildo. Harry uses the nearest stall to pick his floaty body off the floor he’s just licked clean. Slowly regaining his strength, he waddles to Zayn, and the raven hair boy kisses him hard and wet. Their lips lock together like they’ve done this a thousand times; though, it is only their first kiss. So what if fingerfucking, kicking, and fisting came before kissing? “Fuck, Haz, you taste like cum, piss, and Lysol - so fucking delicious.” Zayn kisses him again as he loses track of reality. Harry, too, retracts into his thoughts, which happen to drown in urine. Does he have a watersports kink now, too? Harry brings himself back to rationality with a definite fuck no. He’s kinky, but he thinks that is a step a little too far over the line. He already straddles the line between popstar and pornstar, so he’s not going to say he’ll never be into it. For, he could never deny the offer if it came from Zayn’s dark tip: he’d take anything Zayn gives him. His mind races back to the memory of why they even had the opportunity to do what they have in this bathroom, and he detaches their lips. He’s here to get dicked. The foreplay was unexpected and unforgettable but dick, dick, dick, dick.

“Louis.” He breathily admonishes.

“Fuck, Haz, you’re right. Do me a favor, Babe. Lean forward and touch your toes for me.” Harry trustingly complies as the bones in his back crack and hiss is such delicious pain. The hand dryer rumbles to life, and its warmth begins to flood Harry. He winces in slight discomfort. “I know, Babe, but I had you dripping with one touch to that wet pussy. Louis is expecting a somewhat dry, rough cunt. So, we’re going to dry you out and give him the best you’ve got.” Zayn explains as he directs the airflow deep into Harry’s ass. Harry moans in response, and the warm air tickles his vibrating prostate. It feels foreign but fucking good.

Moments later, Harry grimaces as the dildo is fucked back into his forgiving body. “I know everything is still sensitive, but you promised Louis you’d fulfill his fantasy. And, I’m not letting you break that promise, Styles.” Harry sighs as Zayn gently pulls his shoulders up until his back is elongated and the dryer’s roar has died. Zayn then gently tugs Harry’s wrinkled joggers up his long, silky legs. Once his pants rest snug around his childbearing waste, Harry presses his mouth to his dirty lover’s again with as much fervor and want as his still weak body can muster. Harry hopes it can serve as some kind of thank-you, but he knows he is indebted to Zayn (and soon Louis, too).

“Let’s go get my hole fucked, Daddy.” Harry giddily calls as he drags Zayn, who is now ragingly erect, from the bathroom only stopping when he knocks the _Closed for Cleaning_ sign to the ground. Harry looks up at Zayn with the sudden realization of what has happened. There was no line in the bathroom holding them up. In fact, there was no one in the bathroom after he entered besides Zayn. Zayn who is knowingly stroking Harry’s blushing cheeks.

“Did you honestly think I was going to let a bunch of Star Wars nerds or five-year-olds gawk at you, Babe? That’s Louis fantasy, not mine. Well, at least not at the moment.” The olive skin boys murmurs as his hands on Harry’s waist drop lower. He pushes Harry’s dildo in deep and hard as he moans, “Mine.” Harry groans and breathes against Zayn’s collar bones in confirmation. He’ll do whatever his new Daddy asks of him, and he will fucking love it. God, he is beyond wrecked for this boy, and he can’t wait any longer to have his ass wrecked by him - and Louis. Louis is going to fuck him too: fuck, he is too damn excited. He interlocks his fingers with Zayn’s and leads him down the busy corridor to the correct auditorium. He can wait no more.

“The following film should be rated DP due to the two dicks my hungry hole is going to consume.” Harry proudly smirks at his pun when they turn to open the door, and he grinds back onto Zayn’s painfully hard cock. Zayn laughs at the absolutely shitty pun and moans, for there is nothing he wants more right now than to fuck this boy’s sweet pussy - even better if his own boyfriend is involved too. Zayn turns Harry around in his grip and reconnects his now blistering lips to Harry’s plump ones. Harry’s tongue immediately begins poking at Zayn’s lips, begging for entrance into his mouth. Zayn wants to resist oh so bad just to annoy Harry, but his mouth opens on its own. Harry’s tongue runs across Zayn’s teeth with such care and blissful curiosity, and another’s curiosity turns them back to the real world.

“Mommy, is our movie rated DP?” The door to their film softly closes behind them as a woman’s appalled and horrified gasp reverberates throughout the central hallway. The two horny boys erupt in all-consuming laughter; however, they both wallow in the universe-consuming cravings of what happens now and in the possibility of prying, little eyes watching every filthy move they plan to make.

“God, Harry you probably just ruined his childhood,” Zayn continues to laugh, but in a split second his smiling eyes turn smoldering. “Now, I’m going to fucking ruin your tight body. If you thought my hand was good, wait until Louis and I are double dicking your loose, sloppy pussy, Babe.”

 

            _To be continued..._


	2. The Featured Fuck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the movie starts, the real fun begins: cue the deepthroating, ass eating, fucking, double penetrating, cumming, and fisting.

      Zayn shivers as long, slender fingers run down his chest and come to rest on the band of denim hugging his waist. As they tug on the button locking in their desire, Zayn smiles as he watches them shake with the difficulty of the task and nerves. He follows the pale skin up to Harry’s darkened face; on it, sits a smirk and a mischievous glint in its eyes. He is biting his lip in concentration, which provides a sharp glint of teeth against the warm pink blooming on his skin. Zayn’s smile grows wider when he notices Harry’s other hand battling with Louis’ pants as well. His grin is fractured by the collective moan let loose by him and his lover. The concentration on Harry’s face turns into smug satisfaction as his right-hand wraps around Zayn’s growing length: his left-hand grips Louis’s already precum dampened dick.

In front of them, sloping rows of squeaky seats are proliferated by screaming children and stressed parents. All of them oblivious to the sex ensuing above them as Harry’s hands jerk off both boys. With every tug, each cock thickens and stretches to admirable lengths. He can feel the throbbing, bulbous vein running along the rough shaft of Louis’ dick. It’s a comfortable sensation he hasn’t felt in so long. The last time he held it in his grasp was over a year ago when Louis fucked him through a breakup. Harry had felt no guilt while Louis fucked him in the bed he shared with Zayn, who was spending a week in Bradford with his family. He had felt no guilt in using three of Zayn’s slim dildos to hold himself open and full. He had felt no guilt in using Zayn’s shower gel. He had felt no guilt in savoring the feel of Louis’ cum warming his dead insides. He feels no guilt now as Louis bruises his neck with his chapped lips and sharp teeth, nor does he feel guilty for having sex mere feet away from innocent eyes. The eyes of Zayn bore into Harry’s skin like hot rays of sunlight. The sexual awakening moments ago has fueled him to fuck.

“Why don’t you suck Lou off, Babe?” Zayn breathes into Harry’s ear as he thrusts up into Harry’s big hands again and again. Harry nods and begrudgingly pulls his hands from both boy’s pants. He slides out of his seat with a creak. His knees support his body as he drags his hands up Louis’ thighs; Louis groans as Harry tugs on his pants. He lifts his ass up out of the seat, so the younger boy can pull them down. He knows he should probably keep them mostly on in case someone finds them, but common sense dies as Harry pulls the khakis down Louis smooth legs. Once they have rested at his ankles near the sticky, cold floor, Harry leans up and begins to mouth the noticeable bulge in Louis’ already damp boxers; Zayn is mesmerized by the scene and Harry’s ass. Zayn begins to stroke his own length as Harry reaches to rid the barrier between mouth and manhood.

All three horny boys stifle moans when Louis’ cock springs its cage and slaps the lad’s lower stomach. Harry wastes no time as he begins to kiss the wet cock in front of him. Up and down the shaft, he gives kitten licks, and he gives Louis a heart attack when he wraps his lips around the head and pushes his own head down to the base. Over and over he gulps down the length without abandon. Harry runs his tongue up and down the familiar vein each time he goes down and pulls up. When back up at the round tip, he sucks on just the leaking tip for a time, swirling his tongue around its mushroom head and savoring the forever delicious precum. Soon enough, though, Harry is back to deepthroating the lad, and it is when Harry begins to fondle Louis furry balls that he can’t help but gag. Zayn immediately coughs to cover up the obvious noise, but when he looks around, no one has shifted their gaze from the cartoon projection they paid for.

Louis, however, continues to buck up into Harry’s mouth; while, holding the curly-headed boy down with his greasy, popcorn fingers. Harry’s chest is rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to breathe: his face is now a pulsating red with watery tear tracks running from cheek to chin. The corners of his mouth shine with spit and precum: both drip from his lips down to Louis’ crotch. Zayn can feel sweat bleeding into his shirt as the temperature in the air seems to skyrocket. The sweat on Harry’s forehead is more noticeable as the muffled gulping noise persists: Louis has always maintained a brutal pace. He likes to be rough, a quality Zayn has never appreciated. Louis knows this, so he saves his aggression and sadism for the fucks Zayn doesn’t know about - random fans, strangers at clubs, friends from home, assistants.

Zayn has grown restless with just watching the sex and not participating. Neither Louis nor Harry notice him crawl from his seat. When his hands come in contact with the sticky floor, he grimaces, but he - then - remembers the night’s previous events and smiles. He’s already fisted Harry on a dirty bathroom floor - something much filthier than this grimy tile. From his position on the floor, Zayn takes in a new perspective on the scene above him: Harry continually deepthroating his boyfriend. Zayn wants to put his own mouth to use, so he takes the initiative to pull Harry’s gray sweatpants down around the bloke’s plump ass. As the joggers fall to the ground around his bent knees, Harry gasps around the dick ramming the back of his used throat, and Louis smiles down at this new side of his boyfriend. Zayn was never for this idea, yet - now - he is actively progressing the plan. Louis couldn’t be happier: Harry is gagging on his cock, and his timid boyfriend is about to eat the ass of the biggest whore he knows. Oh, they’re also doing all of this in a crowded theatre where anyone can see them at anytime.

Zayn nibbles on Harry’s white ass cheek and begins to suck a bruise into the tender flesh. Though familiar territory, this is different from the almost sex he and Harry had in the bathroom; this will be real sex. He is going to fuck Harry, his bandmate for years. He has seen his ass almost every day. He has heard his screams from the sex with strangers in secret hotel rooms. He has seen, just tonight, what a slut Harry is, a slut he is going to pound. First, though, he is going to eat that boy’s ass like it is ambrosia from the gods.

Zayn grips onto the pink dildo he had lodged back into the boy’s ass, and he gently pulls on the sparkly placeholder. The Holmes Chapel lad grunts, but it isn’t until Zayn yanks the wide silicon dick from him, that Harry really moans. Louis, still pushing the curly locks deeper onto his cock, coughs - in a moment of clarity - to dampen the attention of the gagging slut blowing him. Zayn fills the space left by the dildo with his mouth while his right-hand sticks it onto the floor next him. Harry’s open hole gives Zayn enough room to massage the boy’s prostate with his rough tongue. The gaping lad’s moans are drowned out by the laughs of children that permeate through the theatre. If only they knew what wasn’t so funny just above them: Zayn ravishing Harry’s warm tunnel. The aphrodisiac taste of Harry’s ass is addicting to Zayn. It’s musky, earthy taste is manly and invigorating. The unending quivering of Harry’s walls only spurs Zayn on as his tongue marks up the fleshy walls with stripes of glistening spit. Zayn wants to be in this moment, this place forever. He could die happy with his face pressed up against Harry’s crack, his tongue delved as deep as it can in the boy.

“Zee, you can eat his pussy later, fuck him.” Louis huffs as Zayn pulls back from his snack to breathe. His chin is coated in his own spit and the moisture of the very cunt he gets to fuck. He can’t help but grin as he pulls his own jeans down, and his cock falls out hard, heavy. He takes pride in slapping his dick against the cheeks before him. The last person he fucked was Niall months ago: they were both drunk, and Niall was (still is) in denial about his sexuality. No honest straight man sucks dick like Niall does. It was nothing like this, though. Harry is a superslut. Niall was an inexperienced bottom who needed it gentle and simple; Harry has a hungry hole that can handle (and has handled) much more than a rough fuck. So, Zayn feels no remorse as he drives his raw cock into the boy: it what Harry said he wanted.

Around his length, Harry’s walls contract and release as he clenches and unclenches around the long, warm dick filling him. His moans and groans are muffled by Louis still filling his lips; Zayn’s are narrowly swallowed by his bitten lips and internal drive to make this last forever. He continues to thrust into the warmth over and over. Each time, the velvet insides of Harry pulse with desire and gratification. Harry’s hands migrate from Louis’ balls to Zayn’s ass, and they grip his cheeks. Zayn’s own hands, once on the ass he’s fucking, move to wrap around Harry’s waist as he lays his torso on Harry’s back. As Zayn kisses the smooth skin, now exposed due to the sex riding his thin shirt higher and higher, Harry’s fingers begin to rub the delicate flesh around Zayn’s own hole. Zayn, with new found filth, whispers in the hair of boy beneath his rocking chest, “Fuck, Haz, finger me while I fuck you.” Harry needs no other incentive, for the tip of his index finger nuzzles its dry skin between the tight grip of Zayn’s thick rim - one not destroyed like Harry’s own. This is a first for the boy. Most times, the men he meets want to fuck him - not have him fuck them. Though there was the one stranger he met who asked him to fuck him since his daughter couldn’t marry a gay boy: Harry was bored and horny, so he fucked him. Then, Harry - to really pacify his sex drive - went back to his hotel room, and Liam fucked him raw twice - once in the shower and once against the window. Liam isn’t gay, but he won’t say no to a hole to warm his massive cock; Harry won't’ say no to a massive cock.

It’s a weird sensation for Zayn, but it’s also a fucking incredible one. Harry has just enough reach to tap Zayn’s sensitive prostate; all the while, Zayn is ramming Harry’s nub straight on. Harry pushes a second digit into him, and it’s almost too much for Zayn. He’s so close to cumming, but he knows he shouldn’t. Zayn gives one hard last thrust into Harry and, following the dull skin-on-skin smack, pulls out of the lad. Harry’s fingers roughly slide out of Zayn’s far less used hole as the older boy slides back from Harry, who whines at both loses. “Lou, your turn.” Zayn whispers and the smile on Louis’ face is all he needs to know that the plan is coming to fruition. His boyfriend is getting one of his fantasies fulfilled, and Zayn couldn’t be happier for him.

As Zayn, pants now around his ankles, climbs back into his seat, Louis, cock out, slides from his. He places Harry on all fours before ramming directly into him without a word or warning. From the cramped space, Harry’s loud, reverberating moan erupts, and Zayn’s loud coughing and squeaking of his seat does little to hide or misconstrue the sound. Below him, everyone still appears unknowing of what is happening, but Louis knows he needs to quiet the pussyboy warming his cock. He snaps his fingers to get the attention of his concerned lover and makes a motion for Zayn to zip Harry up. Louis never once thinks that - maybe - he should just be a little less rough, but why would he? He chose Harry to do this with for a reason. Yes, he and Zayn both know him, but mostly because Harry knows how to please him. It’s Harry’s cunt Louis dreams of. He loves Zayn, but he doesn’t love sex with Zayn. Harry has always been what Louis needed. From the first day of boot camp when they fucked in Louis’ room, Louis knew. After all, not many sixteen-year-olds can go for three rounds and ask for another with no condom this time. Let alone, take a fist at night and sing for millions of people in the morning. Maybe that’s why all of his old late night writing sessions were really him going to the clubs Harry frequents, fucking him raw and fast, and then coming home to lie to his boyfriend.

So, it comes as a surprise to him when his boyfriend, the person he’s fucked for two years, doesn’t shove his dick down Harry’s throat like Louis had intended him to. Instead, Zayn wraps his arms around the back of Harry’s head and shoves it into the crack of his ass. And, if Louis can tell anything by the smile on and the bobbing of Harry’s face, Zayn has silenced Harry by making him eat his ass. Louis is more turned on than ever and puts all that horny energy into powering his raging thrusts into the loose pussy encasing his cock. With every push into him, Harry is forced deeper into Zayn’s ass. Now, it is his tongue that is nearly massaging Zayn’s prostate. He can’t help but smile at the role reversal. Harry doesn’t normally eat pussy, but he sure as hell knows what he likes and applies that to Zayn. If the vibrating of Zayn’s skin and insides is any indicator, Harry is doing a damn good job; while, Louis’ thrusts only seem to be getting harder and quicker, each one propelling this new fuck train faster and faster.

Harry’s jaw is aching from all the deepthroating and ass munching, but he will not stop until he gets what he needs. He needs to be filled with both their hot loads. He needs to be cummed on like the slut he is. He needs more, so he hungrily pulls back from Zayn’s delectable musk, “M-More, fucking hell, I need… I need some goddamn more... D-Daddies.” It comes out as a desperate whimper. But, to Louis, it is a drug, and he is the dealer.

He wraps his arms around Harry and sits them both down - his ass on the cold floor, and Harry still filled by his dick. Harry, now turned to face Louis, pulls his Daddy’s shirt up and over Louis' head. Louis knows he should keep it on, but when Harry latches onto his right nipple and bounces on his cock, he couldn’t give a fuck. Let someone find them: let the whole world find them. Let everyone watch as he pushes Harry’s head off his chest and pulls off the pale boy’s soaked shirt. Then, in a moment of pure selfishness, he pulls off Harry’s gold boots and yanks each pant leg off of the boy. Though, like the slut he is, Harry never stops riding Louis. While clenching his ass and moving in figure eights, Harry states the obvious, “Looks... like... I’m n-n-naked, Daddy: that wasn’t apart… wasn’t apart of our - shit - plan.”

“I know, Baby, but I wanted to feel all of you.” Louis groans into his ears while meandering his hands around Harry’s back and torso, and latching his lips to Harry’s pink, perky nipples. Harry’s head falls back as a silent scream - for once - flows from his mouth like hot air escaping in clouds of pleasure. Louis’ hands continue to rake up and down Harry’s torso: his dull nails leaving stinging scratches in their wake. All the while, Harry’s thighs burn with exertion and throb with exhaustion, but he has no plans to stop his incestuous rocking on Louis’ dick. With each movement he makes, the throbbing member inside him grinds against his prostate, sending shockwaves up and down Harry’s body. His toes curl as Louis paws his ass and rubs his burning hole. The feel of Louis’ damp cock and clammy fingers on his hole drives his head back again, but before he can let the moan rip from his throat, it is filled with the thick, silicon he knows too well. The bittersweet flavor of the wetness coating his beloved dildo tastes different to the musk he’d licked from Zayn’s own hole. His taste is sweeter, more used and prepared. It’s enough to make the short hairs on his arms stand up with desire and gratification of a need he knew not he needed.

“You can’t be too fucking loud. We’ve got too much to do, Slut.” Zayn huskily breathes against the shell of Harry’s ear as his toned chest comes to rest against the sweat of Harry’s aching back. On the small of the younger lad’s back, the heavy weight of Zayn’s dick rests, erect and dripping. No words are spoken as Zayn wraps his legs around Louis’ back and situates himself and his cock in the crack of Harry’s ass. Only gasps and sighs are relinquished as Louis lifts Harry’s body and places it back down onto two dicks instead of one. The stretch is a familiar, dull burn that transports Harry back to every smoky bar and grimy bathroom of his slutty past. Louis is thick, Zayn is long: it’s a perfect match as Zayn rams his prostate, and Louis stretches his hole. For a brief time, the power struggle between both cocks leaves Harry on a rollercoaster: Zayn pulling out when Louis pushes in, Louis pulling out when Zayn pushes in. It’s not until Louis is pulling Harry’s hair while Zayn is kissing the nape of his neck that the struggle turns to pure sex.

Zayn’s hands dig into Harry’s ribcage as he lifts and drops Harry over and over: each fall blurs Harry’s vision with euphoria. The pressure of two cocks colliding with his prostate is too much for him. He tries to give a warning, but he manages to only bite harder into the dildo filling his lips. Louis doesn’t need a warning, though. He knows what Harry feels like when he is about to explode. The lad’s insides tighten and vibrate with the pressure of release, and Harry’s toes never fail to curl tightly in the moments before he cums. Louis, though, doesn’t let up as Harry explodes. His red, angry cock shoots stream after stream of warm cum into the air and onto their sweaty skin. Louis wants to hold out; however, he feels the energy of his own release climbing up his cock. He wants to make this last forever: he can’t cum now. It’s not up to him, though. For, Zayn digs his teeth into Harry’s sagging shoulder and erupts in the boy. Louis desperately wants to hold out, but the warmth of cum flooding Harry’s used tunnel makes it impossible. He manages to piston up into the limp lad twice more before he cums. He buries his moans in Harry’s mop of hair but makes no effort to pull out. The soft, wetness of Harry’s pussy is like home, and Louis doesn’t want to leave - not yet.

It’s not until Harry grows restless that Louis lifts the weak boy’s body from their shrinking cocks. Then, he and Zayn climb back into their seats. It’s Zayn who reaches over first and begins to stroke his boyfriends dick, and Louis follows suit while they begin to kiss. It’s the first contact the two have shared all night, and it is quickly broken by the whimpers below them. They continue to jerk each other off, but now they do so watching Harry’s nimble fingers drag cum out of his red, open hole. His dildo has been spat out and now lies limp and wet on the floor next to the whimpering lad. Too soon, Harry reaches for the toy to fill him again as the last drops of cum are puddled with the remaining load. The boys grimaces slightly as he presses the cold tip of the false dick against his sore rim, and he slowly presses it back into the wrecked heat of his cunt. Zayn and Louis are ready to blow at the sight, and are all the more ready to explode as the credits begin to roll.

Harry quickly finds and puts on whatever article of clothing he can before the lights come on, and it is when his shirt and joggers are on that he settles back onto his knees before the straining cocks before him. Louis cums first blowing a thick, drooping load over Harry’s cheekbones. Drops splatter in his curls, rest on his throbbing lips, and stick to his eyelashes; thus, sealing his right eye closed with cum. As Louis rushes to put on his shirt and pants, Zayn explodes on Harry’s face. Though his third orgasm of the night, Zayn manages to shoot three or four ropes of cum across Harry’s face, shirt, neck. Harry’s face feels heavier as each drop of cum settles into his skin.

The lights come up just as Zayn’s pants have been zipped up. All three boys look thoroughly fucked: Harry the most of them all, for his shirt is on backwards and cum-stained, his eyes are bloodshot, he has a noticeable limp, his face is glistening with cum, and the bulges of his erect dick and dildo-stuffed ass are undeniable from thirty feet away. As all three boys begin to leave the sex-filled air of the upper house of the theatre, Zayn turns back and disappears from view. When he returns to the others, a smile is prominent on his face.

“We taste good, Babe.” Zayn licks his lips as Louis wraps his arms around the lanky boy.

“What’s gotten into you?” Louis asks both out of curiosity and joy.

“Him.” Zayn nods at the mess of a boy in front of them.

 Louis smiles as Harry walks with no fear from the theatre. His joggers are tented for anyone to see his obvious arousal at the looks he’s receiving. Mothers, fathers, adults look at his face with disgust and horror at what has happened in the theatre their kids were in. Harry’s cheeks burn, not with embarrassment but with slutty pride. He just got double-dicked in a theatre full of children, and his face is painted with the possible children of two of his bandmates. He is proud as fuck. He’s proud when a group of teenagers gawks at him; he is proud when he does his best to wink back at them. He is proud as everyone stares at his stuffed ass as he exits the theatre. He laughs when the cold air hits his damp face. He moans when he reaches the car, for Louis and Zayn lean him against the car and lick his face clean. He moans when they each kiss him. He screams when Zayn pulls down his sweatpants and rips the dildo from his raw hole. He moans as Zayn licks it like a lolli. He cries when Zayn thrusts his dry fist into his cunt and tugs on the boy’s prostate, and he cums on the pavement of the well-lit parking lot. He moans as Zayn opens the door and pushes Harry into the backseat by his hole. Harry whimpers once Zayn closes his door and fills his gaping tunnel with his rough fist yet again.

“I… fuck… I thought, gimme it, Zee… I said no… fucking fisting today.” Harry breathes out between Zayn’s raw plunges into him.

“Rules are meant to be broken, Babe. Just like you.” Zayn smiles as his eyes meet Louis’ lustful ones in the rearview mirror.

Louis pulls out of the carpark as Zayn pulls in and out of the used hole below him. This wasn’t part of Louis’ plan, but Louis isn’t in charge anymore. Everyone knows it as the Bradford boy forces the fingers of his other hand inside Harry: Louis couldn’t be hornier, Harry couldn’t be more thoroughly fucked, Zayn couldn’t be happier.

 

      It is his turn now.

 


End file.
